𝓛𝓮𝓸𝓷 𝓚𝓮𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓭𝔂| 𝗜𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀 𝗕𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝟯

Even Flowers Grow In Graveyards

In the heart of the bustling city was the most tragic graveyard I've ever been to. It's been long filled with the decaying bodies of loved ones, and has been left to overgrow and decay. A newer, bigger graveyard was built on the other side of the city, and that's where most locals put their friends and family to rest. The only people who visit here are the one's who have long lost souls they were bonded to.

Or people like me, who seek refuge from the hustle and bustle, from the towering skyscrapers and the over populated streets. I come here more often than I should considering I don't know anyone resting here, but regardless it always brings me peace, knowing that I can be myself and lay my truths bare and nobody can judge me. Nobody alive, anyway.

I wander through the thick, long green grass, which comes up to my calves, enjoying the retreat away from the busy day I've had. It didn't go well, but as soon as I opened the creaky iron gates to this place I immediately forgot about my troubles. I pass wildflowers and the humming of grasshoppers, smiling to myself. For a place surrounded by death this place is filled with life, but I guess even flowers grow in graveyards.

I pass the numerous fading headstones, some broken and beyond repair, other's still in one piece but covered with vibrant moss you wouldn't be able to read the names. I know some of the people, not personally, but from the times I've visited here I took a look around, silently paying my respects and promising to not forget them like so many others have.

As usual, there's barely anyone around, other than an elderly man who's talking to his long lost wife and an older woman knitting on a wooden bench that's bound to break any day now. I keep walking past them, heading to my usual spot deeper into the graveyard, which seems to be darker and more overgrown than the previous section. This part's always empty, but as soon as I see a blonde man kneeling next to one of my favourite graves, I stop.

I don't panic, but a sense of jealousy and protection washes over me. This is my spot, it has been for over a year now, and this is my grave, not literally, but I've made it my mission to particularly remember and respect Mr Marvin Branaugh, who after research I discovered was a police lieutenant in a city long gone by now, it was destroyed when I was younger. I imagine he was a brave soul, and I like to think that he'd be happy knowing at least one person is grateful for him.

I observe the blonde man kneeling by the grave, noticing how his face is scrunched up in pain, his eyes are closed but I can sense the heavy weight bearing on his shoulders, as if his whole aura is plagued with sadness and loss. That kind of emotion can only be drawn from true honor, so I can piece together that this man knew Marvin.

I take a deep breath, then keep walking forwards until I'm stood beside the man, my shoes swishing in the grass must've made my presence known, but the blonde man doesn't move. I frown, then crouch down, hesitating before reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder.

The blonde man flinches, eyes wide in shock and fear as he quickly grabs my wrist, pulling me forwards until I'm falling on top of him. The man's arm wraps around me as we fall, with him landing on his back and me on his chest, our legs tangled together. The second our eyes meet it's like an electric shock, strong enough to bring the dead back.

I pull away first, sitting up as the man dusts himself and sits up too, until we're sat opposite each other on the grass. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, it was just...you looked so sad and I felt bad for you and-"

"It's okay," the man cuts in, looking away as his eyes find the floor, "I'm sorry I grabbed you."

I smile, shaking my head as I wave my hands about. "No! No it's fine, I probably deserved it. I bet Marvin's laughing his ass off right now."

The man stiffens, "How do you know Marvin?" He asks, sounding shocked and a little bit hopeful.

I purse my lips together, sad to break his hope. "I don't. Not personally. I just found his grave one day, and saw he was an officer, and it made me so angry that nobody had bothered to come and see him or even maintain his eternal resting place or whatever, so I kinda took responsibility."

The man's face lightens up a little, then with so much gratitude he replies "Thank you for doing that." I nod, and a silence falls between us, only the swaying of the distant trees and the birds chirping can be heard, until the man speaks again. "What's your name?"

I answer, then learn he's called Leon, and was a cop too with Marvin. I can tell there's more to the tragic story but I'm not going to push it. Leon and I begin talking, eventually finding a sense of understanding in our shared care for Marvin, then our shared emotions turn to shared stories as we learn about each other, the conversation taking a more personal turn as the sub begins to dip. We find comfort in one another, having more in common than I would have ever guessed.

In the days that follow I visit the graveyard everyday to speak to Leon, though odd since we could've easily met for coffee, the graveyard became a place where we could just be in peace. Leon and I find ourselves drawn to each other, sharing memories, laughs and tears. Our talks turn intimate sooner than I'd expected, both of us discussing our hopes and dreams, as well as our fears. We could be honest with each other, out in the open without anybody else hearing, and Leon's warm and trustworthy presence made it easy to fall in love with him.

So much time passes, until eventually on one spring day, Leon and I are holding hands, sitting with Marvin, two steaming coffee cups sat beside us.

"You've brought me so much light during a time when I was lost in the dark. The day I met you was the first time I ever had the courage to visit Marvin, I'd been contemplating for so long, and felt like a failure when I came here, but then you came along, and showed me that happiness can be found after tragedy," Leon softly begins as he reaches out to cup my face, "and I love you for it."

My breath catches until I smile, lip wobbling. "You taught me that I didn't have to be alone anymore, and that comfort doesn't always have to be a place, it can be a person. I love you too Leon."

Our lips connect in a tender kiss, undiluted understanding passing through us as we seek and find a home within one another, an eternal love that was found in a graveyard. Our relationship is a testament to the resilience and passion of the human spirit, and the enduring power of the heart.